Dollar Store Camouflage Jesus. Not necessarily the Jesus who appears to Tim Tebow

The on-again, off-again rumors of ex-NFLer Tim Tebow speaking for Donald Trump at the Republican convention had the media in a frenzy earlier last week. Only on Friday did Tebow squash the speculation by announcing he definitely wasn’t going to Cleveland.

This column is in a position to reveal the story behind Tebow’s dalliance with destiny.

The Christian quarterback was in his Florida home, packing his bags for Ohio, when Jesus appeared to him.

“I was hoping you’d changed your mind about that. If you’d keep a cold sixer in the fridge, I might drop by just to chat once in awhile. As it is, I’m here on business. Ix-nay on Cleveland, my child.”

“Jesus! Don’t say that! Speaking at the Republican Convention is going to be the beginning of my political career. I need another job, since it is Your will that I don’t get any more tryouts with NFL teams so desperate for a quarterback they’re willing to take a chance on a white guy who tosses the ball like it was a cinderblock.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you to try the CFL, Timmy, but I haven’t got around to it. Being the Redeemer of the World keeps me busy sometimes, if you can believe that.”

“That sounds like sarcasm, oh Jesus. I didn’t know that was allowed.”

“With Me, all things are possible, Timmy. So let’s cut to the chase. Keep your butt out of Ohio.”

“But My Lord! The Republicans are the party of God.”

“My Dad hasn’t voted Republican since Eisenhower, Timmy. And that’s not going to change this year.”

“Does that mean you support Hillary Clinton, oh Jesus? How can you? What about Benghazi? Whenever I think of Benghazi, I imagine how those poor victims felt. Alone and helpless. I felt the same way when I was traded by the Broncos and cut by the Jets and the Eagles. Nobody came to rescue me, either. Hillary Clinton slept right through those tragedies, too. For that reason alone, I couldn’t vote for her.”

“Um, yeah, Timmy. Well, you still don’t have to…”

“And what about the emails, oh My Lord?”

“What about them? I hate email. After spending all eternity listening to people’s prayers, you think I want to start reading all their emails? Email is a creation of Satan, Timmy, and his most insidious one since he invented cable TV. Every time you open your inbox, you’re opening the gates of Hell.”

“But Jesus, everyone says Hillary is a secret lesbian.”

“So what? My Father created lesbians for His own reasons. Lesbians do many important things in this world. For one, porn would be a lot less interesting if it weren't for lesbians. But you know that, Timmy. Don’t look so surprised. I know everything, including your browser history.”

“And I always give it to you. But chatting up the Republican National Convention is another matter. Everyone who attends it is going to Hell. Not just the obvious ones, like Melania and Newt Gingrich. Everyone. My Father has made up His mind.

“Hell, Timmy. Hate to see you there. Especially after you’ve been sucking up to me publicly for all these years. Sends the wrong message.”

“I don’t want to be called ‘sad’ or ‘pathetic,’ Jesus.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re out of football, Timmy. That’s Me working in mysterious ways again. Are you feeling Me now? But I’ll open another door. If Trump loses, and they have another season of Celebrity Apprentice, you can go on it again.”

Tim Tebow, having revived his professional football career by signing a one-year contract with the Philadelphia Eagles, was thanking the Lord at his luxurious home in Jacksonville when suddenly Jesus appeared to him. "My Savior," the former Jet, Patriot and Bronco cried. "Is that you?" "You know it's Me, Timmy," Jesus said, sounding a bit peevish. "It's not like I haven't been here before." "I know, Lord. And I have prayed and prayed..." "And for sure We were aware of that. Sometimes Me and My Father think to Ourselves, why won't that boy give praying a rest? Or at least change up every once in a while by asking for something interesting, like a two-on-one oil-wrestling throwdown with Rihanna and Jennifer Lawrence?" "But my prayers were answered, My Lord! All I asked was for one more shot at the NFL, and yesterday the Eagles called!" "Timmy, this isn't easy for Me to say." Jesus looked longingly at Tim Tebow's double-door, stainless steel fridge. "You wouldn't happen to have a beer in there, would you?" "My Lord! My body is a temple! I would not defile it with alcohol!" "That's what I figured." Jesus let out a weary, thirsty little sigh. "All right, here goes. You're aware that lots of people pray for NFL careers?" "Yes, My Lord." "All kinds of people. Kids who are never going to grow up to be more than five-two. Boys who could barely win a footrace with a pile of cinder blocks. Guys who couldn't pass the Wonderlic without a fistful of Ritalin and Stephen Hawking sitting on their laps whispering them the answers. You see why their prayers are not going to come to pass?" "But Jesus! I was a Heisman Trophy winner!" "I know this is tough for you to believe, Timmy, but Philly wasn't My idea." "But how could it not be, my Redeemer?" "Ever played in Philly? It's a tough crowd there, Timmy." "But I have played in New York, my Savior! The city of sin!" "Philly is a tad tougher than the Big Apple, Timmy. Its fans are a bitter lot, hardened by years of disappointment. Their guts are generally roiled by the aftereffects of consuming cheap beer and oily cheesesteaks, making them dyspeptic and rude. They devote their entire hopeless lives to slavishly following one of their generally incompetent sports franchises, the Flyers, the Phillies, or the Sixers, teams that average a championship every fifty years or so. The Eagles are lower than that average, Timmy. Eagles fans boo Santa Claus. They applaud career-ending injuries. They riot in the stands at the least provocation. If all the members of ISIS could be persuaded to attend an Eagles home game wearing Dallas Cowboy jerseys, they would cease to be a viable terrorist threat by about the middle of the third quarter." "But Lord! If you didn't answer my prayers, whose idea was it for me to play for the Eagles?" "Their coach, Chip Kelly. The guy thinks he's God."

Quarterback Tim Tebow, traded from the Denver Broncos to the New York Jets as a result of the Broncos acquiring the services of future Hall-of-Famer Peyton Manning, was praying in a New York hotel room when the Lord, as he usually did, appeared to the young football player.

"Jesus, am I glad to see you," Tim said. "I have been cast forth from Denver, where we worked many miracles together, to this sinful city. I am glad you have not abandoned me."

The Lord appeared distracted. "Right, Tim. How's it going? Nice place you have here." He went to the minibar and poured Himself some wine. As He did so, He glanced at the minibar menu. "Ooooh. Twenty-four bucks for an airplane bottle of syrah? I should have just changed one of those Vitamin Waters into a decent red," He muttered. "Sorry, Timmy."

"It's okay, My Lord. I didn't know you drank, though."

"If you had My Mother, Tim…" Our Savior paused. "Never mind. What can I do for you?"

"I just want to make sure, My Lord, that you will be with me here in my exile in this city that never sleeps or stops sinning."

"Tim, it's like this. Me and some of the guys have a little fantasy league Up There, and there was quite a bit of manna riding on last season…"

"There's gambling in Heaven, Jesus? I thought gambling was a sin!"

"It is down here, Tim. Up There, well, let's just say eternity is a long time. The rules get stretched a little. I did happen to have you on My fantasy roster and when you started wafting all those prayers aloft starting about the middle of the third quarter in all those comeback wins, well, what could I do but answer them? I went from dead last to a solid season winner in the standings. My Father was okay with it…technically, it wasn't breaking any league rules, but the Holy Ghost can be a bitter SOB. He hasn't spoken to Me since the Super Bowl. And I'm pretty sure it was the reason the tires got slashed on My chariot. I suspect Peter or one of the archangels…they hang out at the tavern where I left it parked. So, long story short, I'm not going to be drafting you next year."

"Jesus! You're cutting me from the team?"

"Tough decisions have to be made sometimes. Best of luck to you kid, and I mean that sincerely."

"But here? New York? There's hardly any Christians here! The place is full of atheists, Muslims and Jews! And they already have a quarterback, Mark Sanchez! Could you at least break one of his legs?"

"This is New York, Timmy. There's plenty of guys who will do that for you here without Me getting involved. Talk to one of them. And Timmy, one more thing…"

"What's that, My Lord?"

"Annoy the Muslims and the atheists all you want, but the Jews are my peeps. Keep that in mind."

The author is trying to avoid thinking about the entire football season this year, since both his favorite teams finished 8-8 and out of the playoffs, but it's hard to avoid hearing about born-again QB Tim Tebow. His latest overtime win, over the heavily favored Pittsburgh Steelers featured a "halo" appearing over Denver after the Broncos scored. This led the author to seek out his go-to guy on matters sacred, the Dr. Reverend Oral Willkie, to pose the question: Does Jesus really love Tim Tebow more than He loves the rest of us?

Reverend Willkie: Technically, no, but I saw the halo too. It was perfect, perfectly round, except for the parts that weren't perfectly round, and perfectly circular, except for the parts that were a little bit blown out by those mile-high winds. So I would say technically, no, but possibly maybe. And who could blame Him?

Well, Steelers fans, for one. Does Jesus hate Steelers' fans?

Reverend Willkie. Hate, no. Seriously sick of them, yes. The Steelers have already won five or six Super Bowls and does He get the credit? No, some concussed lug named Roethlisberger does. That's why when millions of Steeler fans were praying for Tim to throw an interception, The Lord had Tebow's back, not theirs.

But doesn't Jesus have more important things to do? What about the war? What about starvation in Somalia? What about disease? What about the people who are praying for their lives at this very moment?

Reverend Willkie: More people starving in Africa…you can't help thinking Jesus might be getting tired of being beseeched about that. Disease? Are you talking lepers? The Lord's got quite a résumé with lepers…go to the source material if you don't believe me. And, sure, there's some guy getting his leg chewed on by a crocodile who's praying hard right at this very moment, but you, I and Jesus all know that yesterday at this time, he was probably looking at dirty pictures on the Internet, so if Jesus wants to say Sorry, buddy, I'm watching the game right now you can hardly blame Him. Frankly, wouldn't you rather listen to the prayers of a handsome young man of considerably athletic prowess and that adorable scruffy beard than Joe Average begging for whatever?

Sounds like there might be an element of sexual attraction there.

Reverend Willkie: Bite, bite, bite your tongue before you say another word. The Lord is immune from fleshly passions. His love for Tebow goes no further than a heavy bromance.

How long has Tebow been tight with the Son of God?

Reverend Willkie: Since he was a mere child. At the age of eleven, before he'd even thrown a touchdown pass, Tim Tebow demonstrated his love for Jesus in many ways. For example, the young Tebow wouldn't even eat a piece of toast unless the image of Our Lord had appeared in it. When he was in college, it got to be a concern for his coaches, who were worried that their star quarterback wasn't getting his minimum daily toast requirement. Luckily, they discovered the Shroud O'Turin Toaster Oven, which burns the image of Jesus into every slice. Tim's been munching prayerfully on toast ever since.

And it looks like he'll need some prayers Sunday, as he and the Broncos go up against Tom Brady and the New England Patriots, who beat them like they were a lingerie football team a couple weeks ago. Will Jesus show Tebow and the Broncos mercy when they play Tom Brady and the powerful Pats tomorrow?

Reverend Willkie: I don't see why not. Tom Brady already got what he was praying for when he married Gisele Bundchen.

I notice you're wearing a Broncos jersey. If Jesus takes Tebow all the way to a Super Bowl win, don't you risk making the rest of the NFL's religious fans into a bunch of embittered atheists?

Reverend Willkie. So be it. Just means more room Up There for me, Him and Tim.